


At Home by creepy_crawly

by youngavengersbigbang



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 04:09:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngavengersbigbang/pseuds/youngavengersbigbang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some time at home with the Sorcerer Supreme, Captain Marvel, and baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Home by creepy_crawly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cris-Art](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Cris-Art).



> **Warnings:** Like, so much fluff you’ll drown? Mankissing?
> 
> **Notes:** Written in response to this piece (http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/youngavengersbb/62586692/2101/2101_600.jpg) by cris-art for the 2013 YA Reverse BB. Also thieving cris-art’s idea of blind!Sorcerer Supreme!Billy. Because reasons.

“How was today?” Teddy asks, swinging into the kitchen, still clad in his armor. He stretches out a finger to Cassie, who wriggles happily and reaches for it.

Billy takes a half-step back, bringing the baby with him. Facing Teddy, he blinks forcefully.

Teddy grins at him, feeling the familiar swirl of his husband’s magic wishing away his uniform. He just hopes it ends up properly put away, not hidden in some neverwhere pocket metaphysical space that Billy keeps around for things that are in the way. That’s happened to both of their costumes a time or two, and it never gets less embarrassing to try and explain.

“What have I said about armor near the baby?” Billy asks. “She’s going to start thinking you’re Iron Man, at this rate.”

Teddy just laughs and accepts the baby being handed to him. Cassie burbles something cheerful at him, her hands patting the soft cotton over his broad chest. “So, a good day, then?”

Billy nods. “We went to Central Park, a little before lunch. Ended up having naptime there, too, because we found a good shady spot. I had a meeting with SHIELD a little before you got here, and you survived whatever you were doing, so, good day.”

“What did SHIELD want?”

The short, dark-haired man shrugs. “Honestly? I’m not sure, even now. I suspect they’re trying to use me as an end run around Doctor Strange, but…” He shrugs again. “And how were peace talks, Captain?”

Teddy rolls his eyes. “More like ten hours of straight up grumping,” he says, his eyes softening as he looks back down at the blonde in his arms. “Honestly, I think I was there less as a galactic representative and more because they needed someone to get involved in case the assholes started shooting again.”

“Ba,” Cassie agrees solemnly, looking up at him. She slugs his chest.

“You’re getting strong, there, baby girl,” Teddy says, reaching up to rub at his abused skin. “Daddy got you lifting weights?”

“You know it,” Billy says. He nods, just once, a strong jerk of his head. He ruins the illusion by grinning at his partner not even half a second later. “I think she’s actually developing super strength. I mean, we still don’t know how much of you she’s going to inherit, so, I mean, it could make sense, right? And you don’t know when you started being extra-strong.”

Teddy stills his rambling by swooping in to kiss one of the deep dimples that still fill Billy’s cheeks when he smiles. This close, Billy smells like home and love and baby, a mix of the soft sweet smell of Cassie when she’s clean and the earthy-rich smokey tones that are always, have always been, Billy, and the warm, comforting non-smell of the house they share. It’s hard to resist kissing his husband properly, not when they’re this close and he can taste the sweat on Billy’s jaw and feel his beard against his face. And Teddy’s had a long day, full of diplomats arguing and representatives bickering and the UN trying their damnedest to play host to a galactic peace talk.

So he doesn’t resist.

Cradling Cassie against his chest, one hand cupping her head, Teddy catches Billy’s lips in a slow, heated kiss. It’s not the kind of kiss that demands or the kind of kiss that begs or even the kind of kiss that expects. It’s just the molasses-slow, blood-warm press of lips to lips and the feel love moving between them.

Billy all but purrs, leaning into Teddy, into the kiss. He reaches up with both hands. One tangles in the soft shirt he magiced his husband into, while the other meets Teddy’s hand where it rests atop Cassie’s small head. He loves it when Teddy kisses him, even more so when Teddy kisses him like this, like the world has stopped around them, like there is nothing but the way his lips part, ever-so-slightly, the way breath rushes warm and cool at once against his cheek, the way they wrap around one another, still mindful of Cassie’s warm body between their shoulders.

“I love you, Teddy Altman,” Billy murmurs, separating just far enough that he can speak.

Teddy grins, steals a fast kiss. “And I love you, Billy Kaplan.” He releases Billy, but only so that he can use his spare hand to resettle Cassie. She has fallen asleep, her head nestled in the junction of his shoulder and his neck, her tiny little hands fisted in his shirt.

Billy smiles softly, listening to her breathing, to the way Teddy’s breathing shifts in response—first a slow, delicate inhale, like he can’t believe this tiny being is trusting him so much, then a slow, slow exhale, as he tries not to wake her while he comes to terms with this whole-hearted, unquestioning faith.

“If you want to sit at the table,” he says, “I was just planning on starting dinner. Her bouncy chair is over there.”

“I can hold her,” Teddy says, but he heads for the table so that he can sit, at least. “I’m glad you’re the one making dinner.”

Billy slants an eyebrow in his general direction. “Far be it from me to deny a compliment, but that’s a change of tune.”

Teddy huffs a laugh, quietly, through his nose. “When you turned all the labels in the kitchen to braille?”

“Yeah?”

“You forgot to leave the visible English,” Teddy tells him. “My Braille reading isn’t nearly good enough to cook, just yet.”

Already on tip-toe to reach into the cabinet, Billy laughs. “We’ll call it evens, then, because you can see the baby stuff on the floor.”

“Like you didn’t used to leave Legos everywhere.”

“And I could see them, then, which reduced the chances of stepping on them. I don’t care what they say, those stupid Tiny Town figures are just as bad. And they’re bigger!”

“I’ll give you that,” Teddy says, grinning even though he, too, has stepped on the plastic things once or twice, and Billy’s right, they are fairly painful. “You could magic them up, right? Like your costume?”

“Oh, that’s right,” says Billy. He snaps his fingers, and in a rush of blue light, he, too, is dressed in a soft t-shirt and a pair of jeans, the high-necked uniform of Sorcerer Supreme vanished. He continues the conversation as he turns his attention back to dinner. “But as for the toys—I’d never find them again. I’ve never seen them. I’m not sure I can summon them back the way I can our costumes or our clothes.”

Teddy looks down at what he’s wearing, thinking. “The clothes you summon—they’re all from before you went blind?”

Billy nods. “I think I might even have created a few of them—the ones we didn’t have anymore? But once they exist, they stay in existence, so it’s just summoning them after that.” He pauses. “Try not to change too drastically, visually? At least until I can do this without visualization?”

Teddy thinks for a moment. “B—promise me you’re not going to magic me back to being seventeen.”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about,” Billy says, cringing slightly. “Not that I don’t love seventeen-year-old Teddy, but…”

“Seventeen-year-old Teddy was twelve years ago,” Teddy says, grinning. “Be a little—strange.”

“I’ll say,” Billy harrumphs. 

Teddy’s grin widens. “Speaking of being seventeen,” he says, “I think I still have some of my mom’s old self-help books somewhere in storage. If you feel like practicing your summoning this weekend.”

When Billy frowns over his shoulder and throws a damp hand towel at him, Teddy doesn’t even bother to duck.


End file.
